


Shields

by Zarathis_Wolfsister



Category: Captain America (Movies), Ghost Rider (2007), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers ignore Thor, Big time spoilers, F/M, This will tie into Ghost Rider I promise, Thor is an alcoholic, Thor's Drinking probs, thor whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 03:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18984391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarathis_Wolfsister/pseuds/Zarathis_Wolfsister
Summary: One thing Thor was always good at...was hiding behind a shield.





	Shields

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters. This work of fiction was created solely for fun and no monetary gain was made.

AN: please leave a comment!  
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Thor. Thunder. But where is it?

He stands in the background, watching the others plan and coordinate. Meanwhile, he just mulls and broods. Safe beneath the shield of alcohol, he knows they think him weak and incompetent. That’s fine. Let them. He rambles when speaking. What is it that is causing this? Is his mind slipping? Or has he finally hit the threshold of insanity?  
Honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising. With as much screams as he hears at night and how much blood he tastes in those dreams, maybe it would be easier to simply go insane. That way he might not feel so guilty. But he knows. Knows that it really is all his fault.  
Once more, Thor behinds a shield. How ironic. The great warrior god , the Mighty Thor Odinsson, hides behind a shield. He’s always hidden behind something. His birthright. A prince of Asgaard cannot show fear. Then it was a shield of stupidity. Well, everyone just sort of assumed since he was so strong that naturally he would be stupid. An oaf, as Loki so eloquently put it. He hides behind the same type of thing now. A shield of bumbling, rambling drunkenness.  
He hates himself for his weakness, both then and now. How many times had he screamed beneath the weeping heavens, wishing for the rain to wash his own tears away?  
The day Bruce came to Thor’s humble abode (Was that only a few days ago?) Thor knew he was in for a lot of shame and guilt. Naturally, the guilt wouldn’t be said allowed nor would he be openly accused but he could see it in their eyes. It was his fault.  
Now as he stands in the growing crowd around Tony Stark’s charred body, he knows he has another death put under his tally. Why didn’t they let him use the gauntlet? He was a god. He could have handled it.  
Are you a god? Are you , really?  
Oh God there is that stupid voice.   
Yes, its me. Thor. Yourself. The thing you used to be. A god.   
“Why?” he asks aloud. Although nobody hears. Why, what?  
Why did so many have to die? Why was he given this burden? Why were so many people taken away? Why couldn’t Tony have just given him the damn gauntlet?

“Do you know what’s running through my veins right now?” he remembers demanding. The desperation he hears in his own voice is still so unreal.  
What followed was a quip that wounded him more than any weapon.  
“Cheese-whiz.”  
Is that what he came across as now? A fat, pitiful drunk with a beer-belly built from guilt? Is that all they saw?   
Well, you didn’t really give them any choice. You got what you wanted. Didn’t you, fatboy?  
As they continue to gather around Tony Stark’s body, Thor can’t help but catch a glance of himself in the metal plating of downed…whatever it was embedded into the earth. In that image, he sees something. A failure. He’d failed so many people and now he’d failed himself.  
His thick and matted beard is coated in his blood. Armor that once fit so well is deformed from his beer gut. Even Mjolnir and Stormbreaker feel different. They don’t feel like parts of him anymore. But Thor can feel it. He can feel something deep within the items calling to him, like a siren’s far off song.  
And so, Thor turns on his heel and walks away. Slowly at first, then building in speed. With both weapons clutched in white-knuckled fists, he ambles up the crater made by the other …Captain. He can’t remember he name at the moment.  
No one calls out for him. No one tells him to stop. It’s hard, getting up that hill. Half-way up it he’s winded. But he keeps going without a look back.  
Pretty soon he hits the trees and then he knows he’s basically home free. However, he doesn’t stop until his fat legs give out beneath him. Mjolnir and Stormbreaker hang limply from his fists. His lungs and eyes are burning and his vision blurs.  
“I will not cry,” he thinks to himself. But he does.  
“Cry,” comes Stormbreaker’s voice. Yes, she talks. It has been a long time since he’d felt that voice within his head. Somehow, he knew the voice was female as was the axe. Mjolnir, however silent, offers a comforting presence.  
He walks on and on. Still no calling. Still no chasing. A part of him is disappointed. Did he mean so little? Did they think him such a burden? Then he curses himself. Asking how dare he take away from the grief of the loss of Tony Stark.  
A glance skyward still shows the smoke and earthen debris cast into atmosphere by the attack. For a moment, he remembers the Northern Lights of his childhood. Of Norway. Sitting with his younger brother. Just two young boys peering into the deep emptiness of space.


End file.
